


i'd like for you and i to go romancing

by impossiblyincredible



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Love Confession, somebody tell me how to tag things, this is just sickeningly sweet fluff, yes they're playing monopoly and listening to queen it's MY fic i make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblyincredible/pseuds/impossiblyincredible
Summary: they're playing monopoly and drinking champagne, and yes, they're pining (because that's what they do best)
Relationships: Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	i'd like for you and i to go romancing

“How- what? How are you so goddamn good at this?” Sasha sputters, running a hand through her hair. The champagne in her glass comes dangerously close to spilling over as she sits forward, pointing one accusatory finger at him. “You said you were shit!”

“No!” He points right back at her, just for the drama of it all, but he’s laughing when he says, “What I said was that I was shit compared to Martin! You’re- you’re misconstruing my comments, Sash, and I’m not having it!” 

“Well-” She trails off, devolving into laughter. 

As she counts out the money to pay him for Boardwalk, Tim sways theatrically in his seat to the music playing from his speakers. He grabs the fork off his abandoned dinner plate, singing into it. “Don’t go wasting your emotion …”

“Lay all your love on me...” Sasha belts out, closing her eyes. Tim thinks she might be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and he takes a sip of his drink to hide his face. She throws the paper bills at him, sending him into a fit of giggles again, and as he collects them, he shoots her a triumphant look, waving them at her.

“I’m running you for all you’ve got, Sash. You better watch out.”

"You'll win over my dead body," she says, wrinkling her nose at him. 

"Well, I'd start preparing my last will and testament, if I were you, then." She scoffs, and Tim grabs the dice.

He rolls, and- "Ha! That's a six!" she says, beaming and putting her hand out. She's talkative in a way she rarely is at work, and it doesn't escape him that he's at her new flat for the first time since she moved. Private person, Sasha is, and he finds himself overwhelmingly grateful he didn't push it before. "What are you smiling like that for? You've got to pay, Tim."

He snaps out of his reverie and frowns exaggeratedly. "Wasn't smiling." Their hands touch, briefly, as he hands over the money, and his heart pounds. Jesus, he thinks, it's not like he's twelve. This is Sasha; he can be grown up about this.

She furrows her eyebrows, emptying her glass. "Were too."

"Was not!"

"You were! I would know!"

He snorts, lacing disbelief into every syllable. "Oh, you would know, would you? Prove it."

“You get all…” she trails off, gesturing briefly with her hands. “Infectious? No, contagious! That's it!"

Tim, mid-sip, chokes on his own laughter. “What, like germs? Diseases? You really have been thinking about that Amherst case, huh?” He empties his glass and attempts to control his expression, to stop himself from going all gooey. 

"No! God, I hate that case. You know, like, you make me all happy when you smile, and I got really, really happy just now!” Crossing her arms, she smiles at him, smug as ever. "Ergo, you smiled. I win."

"Damn, I guess you've got me there." He can't control it now, and he beams at her. Maybe she was onto something, because his heart feels full to bursting as Sasha's face softens at him, and it occurs to him that they've been staring at each other for quite a while now, Monopoly be damned. It dawns on him then what song is playing, and he lights up with indignation, turning to the speaker. "Hey!"

"Mm?" 

"This is- this is Freddie!"

She snorts. "I was waiting for you to notice. Surprised you didn't squeal at the opening lines." 

He shakes his head. “Well, I was distracted, wasn’t I? Who’s to blame for that one?” He’s not sure how she’ll react to that, so he grabs the fork and sings along with the speaker, “I work hard-”

Still without opening his eyes, he points at her, gratified when he hears, “-he works hard!”

“Every day of my life, I work til I ache in my bones...”

Sasha interrupts with, “Ti-im, we don’t work every day, though. We’re not Jon. You’ve got to be, like, realistic.” Tim opens his eyes to see her resting her chin on her hand, her smile utterly at odds with her words. If it were anyone else, that’s when he’d make his move. But it’s Sasha, and she’s a lightweight, and she’s happy, and her smile is just the sum of those facts. No matter what it seems like, he refuses to fuck up what they have for something that might never pan out. He refocuses on the (admittedly ridiculous) conversation, unwilling to ruin the moment.

“Oh, I see. Everyone’s a critic. You sing, then.”

“With pleasure.” Snatching the fork from his hand, she hops up onto the table and sways dramatically as she sings. “Can anybody find me.. somebody to love?”

Without thinking, he interrupts, “Oh, I can. Love you, that is.” Immediately, he realizes what he’s said and his heart starts to pound; not even a moment ago he was telling himself not to fuck it up and here he is, blurting out the first thing on his mind. There are, quite frankly, a myriad of reasons he shouldn’t have said that, but Sasha stops singing immediately, mouth dropping open slightly. “I mean-”

He trails off, without any excuses prepared, and for a minute they just stare at each other. He’d never been able to hold up under her heavy gaze, and he finds himself taking a step toward the table where she’s sitting.

“Tell me you meant that,” she says, finally, her voice quieter than he’s heard it in a long time. “I really, really don’t think I could take it if you didn’t.” He realizes then how still she’s gone, and he snaps back to reality. She places her words deliberately, and there’s a telltale caution to them that breaks Tim’s heart.

“Wouldn’t joke about a thing like that. Look,” he says, taking her hand and placing it on his chest as he stands in front of her. “Cross my heart, hope to die, I’m in love with Sasha James ‘til the day I die.”

He gets the smile that he was aiming for, and she blinks away the glassy sheen in her eyes. “I can’t believe I fell for a nerd.” 

He doesn’t miss the phrasing, and he can't keep the joy from his face as he teases, “Oh, and I didn’t? Miss Poetry-is-the-way-to-my-heart?”

She laughs a little, getting off the table and pulling him close. He squeezes tightly, and he almost can’t hear her when she says, “Thank you for waiting. I know I wasn’t- I mean, it means a lot.”

He knows, because this is Sasha, that it was staggeringly difficult for her to come out and say that, and he feels a swell of joy that she trusts him so implicitly; to hold her, to listen to her, to see her tipsy or tired or vulnerable. He also knows that he’d be happy doing all of that and more for the rest of their lives. “My pleasure, really. You know, I do actually enjoy your company, surprising as that may be”

She shoves him a bit, but it’s worth it, because she’s got that twinkle in her eye again, and his heart feels so light he feels like he might float away. “Forget about Monopoly. Let’s watch a movie.”

“That’s just code for talking straight through it and making fun of the characters, and you know I know that.” As he makes a pit stop to refill their champagne, he hears her laugh. 

“What movie?” she calls, browsing through Netflix.

“What romcoms have they got? Have you seen that new one with Jennifer Aniston?” He carries both glasses to the sofa and as he hands one to her, she pats the cushion next to her. “Oh, so we’re not leaving room for Jesus, then?”

“Tim!”

“Okay, okay.” He settles next to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders, and it strikes him just how easy it is with her, to occupy the same space and just exist together. She leans back into him, hitting play, and as the opening scene starts, he kisses the top of her hair. She stills for a moment, then she turns and grins and kisses him properly, and he swears he can feel her smiling against his mouth. It’s over almost as quickly as it started, and Tim, for once, has no clever comment to sling back at her. 

All he can do is stare, mouth hanging open, as she smiles mischievously. “You alright there, Tim?”

“Oh, you absolute-”

“Shh! It's starting!”


End file.
